


I live in lonely desolation and wonder when my end will come

by tigriswolf



Series: Alternate Universe [282]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Betrayal, Gen, M/M, Mind Control, Not A Fix-It, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's in freefall.  [All of him is screaming <i>yes</i>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	I live in lonely desolation and wonder when my end will come

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I live in lonely desolation and wonder when my end will come  
> Fandom: Avengers movieverse  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: a great deal of abstractness and imagery; past-mind control; thoughts of betrayal  
> Pairings: Loki/Clint  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 655  
> Point of view: third

He dreams of falling, and flying, of wings broken and healed, of hawks and ravens and phoenixes burning bright enough to light the sky aflame.

He dreams of death in a cage, and the door swinging open. Ice, a world full of it, and battle, always a hammer wielded by a god-prince, and falling, and flying, and wings, wings spread from one horizon to another, and - _my god, my god_ \- falling, and flying, and waiting.

 _my god_.

Yes.

 _My Hawk_.

Blue as the sky. Black as a moonless, starless night. Wings and blood and fire, falling – phoenixes on the rise.

He dreams of days without question, without fear. Days when he knows his purpose, when he had reason. Days of utter freedom, when he had only to obey the will of his king, his master - _my god_.

He dreams of days he misses on awakening. He dreams of things he cannot tell his ‘friends,’ the team of heroes. Things he cannot tell the shrinks he’s still ordered to see, nine months on. Things he tries to himself he doesn’t believe, when the sun is high and his eyes open wide.

 _my god_.

Yes.

 _My Hawk_.

He dreams of phoenixes and a sky on fire, of worlds dying and ancient ice thawing. He dreams of strong, sure fingers cupping the back of his head and a gentle, beloved voice murmuring, _My Hawk_.

 _my god_.

Yes.

He fights beside Natasha and Tony and Bruce and Steve and Thor, whenever he’s around. He watches movies and laughs at jokes and prepares favorite foods.

And when he sleeps, he dreams. When he sleeps, he falls and he flies, and wings stretch across the horizon, and the sky burns.

The sky burns and he bows, he rises, he stands a step behind his god, guarding his back and keeping him safe ( _My Hawk_ ) and he will defend, he will protect, he will eradicate anyone who dares deny, who dares defy – 

_my god_.

Yes, he says in his dreams. Yes, he gives in, he gives up, he surrenders and spreads wide, giving all he is and all he has.

 _Yes, my god. Yes. All for you_.

He wakes trembling with need, with want, and it takes longer each time to remember what’s real and what’s not.

But he knows what it means. Bone-deep, he knows.

He’s in freefall. And when Loki comes – which they _all_ know he will – he’ll fly away.

Clint watches his team. He watches SHIELD. He’s been to every continent (even that godforsaken frozen wasteland) and most countries, and he’s smarter than anyone he knows gives him credit for. He’s no Tony Stark, but Tony Stark is no him, either.

He wonders, sometimes, if any of the rest of Loki’s minions are dreaming of phoenixes, or if he’s just that special.

 _my god_.

Yes.

 _My Hawk_.

He knows better than that. He’s just that special, and he keeps his mouth shut even as his body shudders for his god, and he is so severely fucked. They all are.

What is it, a latent program? He’s a sleeper agent, now, waiting for the trigger to go off and kill everyone for real?

No, because he’s not sleeping. He’s fully awake, and he still keeps silent.

Every time, he dreams of falling and flying and what must be his god’s life. But why is Loki allowing it?

What could a primitive backwater rock like Earth offer to a god, except to break his brother’s shiny new toy?

 _My Hawk_.

He’s in freefall, waiting for the phoenix’s wings to spread from horizon to horizon. He doesn’t need to know the endgame. He doesn’t care about the endgame. He is a weapon, no matter who has him in hand.

Strong, sure fingers. A gentle, beloved voice. Ancient ice and a sky on fire.

Waiting.

 _My Hawk_.

Yes.

 _my god_.

The answer was always going to be yes.


End file.
